


Millions

by AQLM



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, F/F, Loss, Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQLM/pseuds/AQLM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The contemplations of Liara T'Soni at the end of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contemplation

Note: In this variant, a female Shepard initiated a variant of the destroy ending. The Reapers themselves were rendered completely inert, all Reaper creations died where they stood, Reaper technology ceased to function, and indoctrinated creatures regained their minds. No other technology or race was harmed. Shepard is MIA and presumed dead. The Crucible expended its energy, teleported the Citadel back to the Serpent Nebula, then detached and exploded.

\---

When a word is spoken enough times, it loses all meaning. The letters split from the interpretation, the sound becomes unreal, and the syllables are rendered foreign as they spill off the tongue. For Liara, the word afforded this linguistic trickery was “millions”. It came across her terminal so often. In the casualty dispatches from exhausted commanders. In the lists of missing recited by the news. In the frantic requests for resources from a hundred burning worlds. 

On her more cynical days, Liara had Glyph render the numbers in ancient Thessian rune-script, Prothean tapping code, or even primitive Earthen hexadecimal. She’d shift the translators from Turian to Volus and back again, challenging herself to parse the message without any technological aid. Anything to relieve the constant repetition of a word people felt comfortable saying because “billions” was too excruciating. Millions. Millions and millions. A word with no meaning but pain.

She pushed away from her expanse of monitors and rested her tense blue forehead on her hands. The agony she had expended about the millions dying on Thessia seemed a distant whisper. On Palavan, the bodies had fallen so thickly that all funeral rites were suspended in favor of quick prayer and massive pits. Earth was a roiling cinder and Khar’shan a glassy rock. The thoroughness of Thessia’s pummeling was mitigated by its relative brevity. More so than others, her people still stood. What right had she to grieve?

But objectivity did not come easily when the call for supplies were Asari. The bodies of the fallen husks had contaminated their colony’s water supply, bringing a plague that was wiping out the survivors. Could the Shadow Broker arrange for a filtration system, or medications, or perhaps enough flashfire to burn their corpses? They could not pay, but certainly the Shadow Broker could use a few grateful warriors to do his will, or grateful bodies to fill his bed. The Shadow Broker gave his assurances, as always, and took the dossiers of those who would serve, and filed both away in a file of empty promises. 

Equipment from where? Which planet had a glut of resources that it would happily throw at another race? Starved and battered children to throw in front of whom? The doctor was not so callous as to spill blood for the sake of collecting a debt. And share her bed? Never. Only one woman had ever done that and, save a restored Lazarus project, no other woman would again. 

“Shepard,” she whispered aloud. “My love, was this your legacy? A galaxy saved from the Reapers so it could die in a wasteland of pestilence and famine? How many more months until the ones you saved curse your name?”

The life within Liara stirred restlessly at the sound of her father’s name. Shepard’s other legacy, albeit a hidden one, tended not to agree with Liara’s forays into despair. The Asari leaned back and rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. If the galaxy were doomed, Liara would not bring a new life into it. Technology and philosophy offered her outlets from pregnancy. Yet here she was. Waiting with some anxiousness to see the daughter who Shepard would never know, wondering how much of the Commander this little one would carry in the curve of her face and the strength of her will. It was a secret, though; Liara was not ready to share.

The door chime startled her and she unsuccessfully tamped down the rush of excitement at its sound. A mere five months since the Normandy had lost its Captain left Liara still expecting the lean frame and loving smirk to grace her quarters. Instead it was the compact frame and dark eyes of Major Alenko, whose mission was no less important but whose presence lacked the gravitas and desire of his predecessor.

“Dr. T’soni,” he stated, his approach formal as always. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, of course not Kaidan,” she replied, favoring the more casual address. “What can I do for you?”

“The Normandy has been recalled to the Citadel for a mission debriefing. We have a little time before we need to arrive, though. Are there any things you or,” he raised an eyebrow, “the Shadow Broker require before we do so?”

She gave him a freckled half-smile. “No, thank you. I have finished consulting with the research team in the labs below. Of course, I am certain the Shadow Broker will let me know when the Normandy’s services will be next required. And what about you?”

Kaidan offered a noncommittal shrug. “A lot of calls from all over the galaxy, some human, some alien, some official Navy business and some specter. I have a lot of choices…” His voice trailed off.

It was a rare display of public uncertainty from the Normandy’s interim captain. Kaidan had none of Shepard’s powerful leadership and command inspiration. It was doubtful he could rally the galaxy in the way Shepard had. But in a time of relative peace, overseeing a crew of wounded and overwhelmed humans, Kayden’s quiet steadiness and resolute presence would suffice. And for those who needed more fire, the ever present James Vega strode around Kaidan like a faithful pit bull, snapping at anyone who dare step out of line. The two men were oddly and evenly matched, a good captain and good first officer in the most unlikely circumstance. But in private, Kaidan would like the façade waiver.

“No one would blame you, Kaidan, if you decided to prioritize human needs over those of other members of the galaxy. Certainly that is what… she… would have done if given the option.”

He leaned against the door and tilted his head against the bent metal bulkhead. “She would, wouldn’t she? But not unless she was sure there was someone else to take care of the rest of the galaxy. Sometimes, I think the only people left are us.”

“That may be. So I will give you the same advice that I had to give her: you can’t save the galaxy alone. And part of not being alone is taking care of your own people as often as you take care of someone else.”

“I know,” he said with a long exhale. “I keep waiting to be reassigned to some sort of Earth detail or for the Normandy to be handed over to one of the admirals. No one wants to replay Shepard. Hell, the only reason I’m here is because I’m willing to carry her legacy.” He stood up again and ran a dark hand through his spiky black hair. 

“Anyway,” he said brusquely, “I will let Joker know we are going to make a stop at what’s left of the Watson colony to see if we can deliver some medicine and pick up some food supplies. Speaking of which, if you want to join us for dinner, you’re welcome to.”

Liara rose and followed him out of her office. “That sounds lovely.” She could do nothing about the millions right now. Attending to her needs would have to suffice.


	2. Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara contemplates the nature of humans and her place on the Normandy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Chill" is Vega's nickname for Kaidan because he is so...you know.

The Normandy was a human ship. The smattering of alien races, ancient and new, who had graced her quarters did not diminish that. The Turian design had been co-opted by the human and not the other way around. Human faces manned every post, human languages filled the mess halls, human lives were sacrificed for their own planet or countless other worlds. 

Liara had supposed the defeat of the Reapers would strip the Normandy of its complement. She knew dozens upon dozens of Asaris who returned to Thessia, Illium, and outlying colonies to search for their loved ones among the wreckage or to try their hand at rebuilding the smoldering shell of a planet. Some thought to breed a new generation. After all, someone had to replace the generations they carelessly tossed away by dancing, fucking, and murdering their way across the galaxy instead of preparing for the ultimate evil. Earth had been so crushed by the Reapers that Liara believed the grim duty of every human would be to return home to salvage what they could. 

But the ranks of the Normandy had instead swelled. Quarters that were once barely full now were stacked top to bottom with bunk-beds full of soldiers trying to grab sleep between busy shifts. The mess hall was almost always short of supplies, with the chef now relying on a somewhat tasteless protein supplement to accommodate a legion of extra mouths. Liara heard Kaidan turning down request after request, with the stalwart Vega occasionally lobbying for, “Just one more good bro.” 

It would seem so many of humans had lost so many others that there was nothing Earth could hold for them. They would rather find their fortune hopping from planet to scorched planet, trying to rebuild the Reapers had taken without looking at the ruins of their own home. It was a tactic the Krogan had used to cope with the emptiness of the genophage and Liara hoped it was not a sign that humanity was going to descend to absolute chaos.

Liara felt outnumbered now, even more than before. She’d always been the lone Asari on the Normandy but Shepard had made her feel welcome. Not just in her bed, of course. Though that didn’t hurt. One too many leering or curious stares from the crew could be instantly counteracted by a single all-encompassing gaze from the commander and woman who loved her. No such buffer any longer.

She followed Kaiden to that overflowing middle deck and slid in among a handful of the interchangeable human faces. Good soldiers all, she knew. But the loss of everyone that she cared about made her even more reluctant to befriend the short-lived race. Their race was chatty and pushy in ways other races were not, making them an asset when you wanted communication and a liability when you wanted contemplative silence.

Doctor Chakwas sat next to the scientist and offered a bowl of protein supplement. Liara obtained a bit of silverware from another crew member and stirred the grayish semi-solid. She drew a handful of Asari letters within it, then a few letters of English that she blurred with another pass of the spoon. 

The greying doctor leaned close, ensuring that her words could be heard only by the grumpy Asari and said, “Eat, Liara. You’re not going to help rebuild either the Asari or human races if you refuse to nourish yourself and that…you know…” 

She indicated the still small belly tucked beneath the mess hall table. “I can keep your secret but as your doctor I will not let you fail to take care of yourself.”

Liara sagged and acquiesced, scooping some up and eating it gingerly. At least the texture had improved. “Thank you, doctor,” she sighed, putting in another mouthful. Humanity. 

“Have you given any thought to where you’re going next, Liara,” said Kaidan, sitting beside her, both keeping her from leaving and insulating her from most unwelcome visitors.

“I haven’t yet, Kaidan,” she answered truthfully. “It would make sense for me to return to Thessia but the galaxy needs so much right now. Really, my skills as an information broker can do more good than just being…” She let the argument die in her throat. 

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t want to go home Liara,” noted Kaidan. He subtly tilted his head towards his crew, concealing any hint of disapproval. “I think Shepard would be disappointed that we all seem to have abandoned Earth.”

“Nah, I doubt it. Lola was always good about understanding how people worked,” interjected Vega, appearing from nowhere and shoving a hunk of bread into his oversized mouth. 

“She would’ve known that sometimes smashing your face on a problem won’t solve it, so you gotta take time away. Get some new angles, ya know? Regroup.” He paused and glanced down. “Hey, you gonna eat that,” he said, indicating Liara’s food.

To Dr. Chakwas’ dismay, Liara slide the bowl over. Vega downed the slop in a single happy chug. “Damn, that brings back memories. I remember back in the corps when this was a feast after two months of dry rations.” He spun the bowl back on the table.

“Anyway, what I’m saying is everyone on here is gonna go back home, Doc. Even you.” He clapped a huge, perennially filthy hand on her shoulder. “A month from now, half of these guys will be up to their asses in salvage operations and farming.” He laughed, presumably at some inappropriate mental vision of human anatomy and the finer points of farming. Crass human humor didn’t always translate. 

He went a bit more serious. “They just gotta get past it all. And if flyin’ with the Normandy helps, the more the merrier.” He flung out a giant arm, clotheslining an unfortunate crewman who got too close to his exuberance. 

“Maybe so, James,” said Liara ambiguously. She tilted a blue head towards his stocky frame as he scooped up and apologized to the addled soldier. 

In textbooks about aliens, a sample diagram of sex-specific physiology would be included. The textbooks usually exaggerated secondary sex characteristics, from Krogan head scales to Turian fringes, to better convey the differences to uneducated readers. James always reminded her of one of those illustrations. With his bulging muscles, deep voice, and Krogan-like aggression, James was almost a caricature of the human male. Reliable, predictable, and easy to handle. 

“Trust me. I might not know…have known…,” he corrected quickly, “Lola in the way you did.” There was the predictable lecherous expression. “But she got my head on right after all that stuff happened back on Fehl Prime.”

“I know,” stated Liara flatly. “As I seem to recall, it involved a great deal of physical brutality inflicted as punctuation during your ‘chat’.” 

Shepard had let Liara apply the medigel to the bruises James didn’t know he had inflicted, the Asari swearing she would never let James talk to her love again if this was going to be the end result. A rare chiding from her partner followed, informing Liara that Vega could break her arm if it meant he suffered less. A reminder that shooting a gun was easy. That medigel was easy. That letting a world burn was hard. That letting people die for nothing was agony. That it was a lesson Shepard wished Liara would never learn. That it happened anyway.

“Right,” he cried, oblivious to her discomfort. “Now, I can’t go a round or two with everyone on this ship because that would mean Dr. Chakwas wouldn’t get to sleep for a week.” The older woman sighed and shook her head in a way that pretended to be aggravation. 

“But James has ensured he cycles new soldiers into his fire teams on a regular basis,” interjected Kaidan. “Especially when missions will require great physical exertion.”

Vega gave him a toothy grin. “You noticed, Chill?” 

“I did indeed, Mr. Vega,” replied Kaidan. “I have also noticed those soldiers demonstrate significant emotional and physical improvement even if you don’t personally punch them in the face. Which I appreciate, James.” The smooth-toned captain rose from the table, allowing the Asari to pass by him. 

“Well, I appreciate all you’re doing for the crew, James,” said Liara stiffly. She needed to get away from their human attempts at comfort. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

She strode back to her quarters, ignoring the marine when he said he’d stock up on medigel if she ever wanted to talk with him.


	3. Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara asks what it means to miss someone. 
> 
> PG Rated for brief references to masturbation.

Liara woke sweating and frustratingly aroused. This was her bed, not the one that she had shared with Shepard on the upper decks of the Normandy. She opened her eyes to a bulkhead, not an array of fleeting stars. Regardless of the reality of Shepard’s death, Liara’s body would miss the commander’s expert touch and the warm nights Shepard had spent in between battles being the lover Liara had always wanted. Shepard had been attentive, alternating fierce and gentle when the mood demanded, shifting and touching to fulfill needs Liara never knew she had.

The Asari threw back her sheets and gazed at the ceiling. Had she been dreaming? Or just an unconscious reaction, reminding her that there was nothing but self-pleasuring in her immediate or distant future. Asari sexuality did not rampage and roar like human sexuality but that didn’t mean Liara was immune from want. And want she did, be it due to the pregnancy or the longing for familiarity and comfort. She dug her fingernails into her fists and did nothing instead. 

She got up. She paced. She wandered the room. She sat down at her console and looked at the piles of data waiting for her to process, closed the files again and put her head in her hands. She got up once more. There is nothing in this room that would give her what she wanted. There was just emptiness and work. She dressed herself completely and left her room. The mess hall was quiet, the nearby duty stations mostly empty. Dr. Chakwas had long since gone to sleep, leaving the medbay dimmed and empty. Time was a single rogue Geth had lived there, or so she’d been told; Legion’s visit had been during those awful years when Shepard was dead and then far from her arms.

How had Liara dealt back then? When Shepard had died the first time, Liara had been there, feeling her fingertips slip away from her love. Liara had sat in dumb horror as the human was swept away into the void, a scream caught in the back of her throat as the escape pod drifted into the void. Liara had spent the next few months feeling like she was being strangled, trying to sleep while the vision of Shepard’s last agonizing moments filled her mind’s eye. Then, she started channeling her grief and shame into the search for Shepard’s body.

At first the journey had been to reclaim the body of her love to gain closure. When the Collectors became involved, it was a mission of vengeance against Shepard’s killers and a strike against a hated foe. When Cerberus intervened, it had become more complicated: honoring the traditions of humanity versus dealing with the devil who had been an enemy and hindrance through their long fight against Saren.

Well, Cerberus was never as much a devil to the Asari as it was to humanity and other races. Fringe terrorist groups had been attempting to bring down Asari civilization for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. A bunch of skulking humans with a self-righteous bent and relatively primitive technology wasn't going to make a much of a dent. That conceit had been proven deadly wrong when Cerberus handily contributed to the fall of Thessia, but at the time it had been Liara’s firm belief. She did not revise her history. The archeologist in her would shudder.

Once the body had been delivered into the smooth hands of Miranda Lawson, Liara had known somewhere in her heart, Shepard would be brought back to life. Liara had gone on to build a network and a life on Ilium, trying to drive the thoughts of Shepard out of her head. It worked to a point. But as long as Cerberus was trying to revive her beloved, there was a thread of hope spun around her heart, keeping her from healing the wound over cleanly. Thus, her mourning was less complete.

There was also the simple fact that Liara and Shepard had consummated but not solidified their fledgling relationship. Those weeks of getting acquainted as lovers instead of colleagues after the defeat of Saren on the Citadel were rapidly followed by Shepard's death. A love, or at least the makings of one, cut short. 

Most of her relationship with Shepard had been longing, she realized. It had been abstract. It had been time upon time of waiting for something to happen. Even before Shepard came to Therum, Shepard was an idea, some nebulous person who would rescue her from the Prothean trap. Before that, someone who would rescue her from her loneliness as she went to dig site after dig site. Then Shepard was a body waiting to be revived, with nothing but memories to occupy the Asari’s mind.

Truly they had only been together for less than a year between Shepard's revival and her loss at the final battle of the Citadel. They had spent only a few weeks of happiness, or at least as close to happiness as you could get when you were the commander of the starship and were darting from system to system in search for tools to defeat the Reapers. Then Shepard was ordered back to Earth, away from Liara’s arms, and Liara had once again buried her need for Shepard under layers of work. After Mars, their relationship was nothing more than battle after battle, setback after endless setback, with Liara waiting at night for Shepard to crawl beside her and fall into a universe of nightmares.

So this was it, Liara noted to herself. For all her love, she had mainly pursued a relationship with a ghost, an idea. It was true most Asari spent more time mourning their bondmates than loving them, especially if they chose a shorter-lived race. Any relationship shorter than a few centuries was considered a breath, a fleeting memory, no more important than a single day. No Asari would have waited as Liara did, but then again, no Asari had bonded with Shepard.

Liara found herself pacing in the empty mess hall, interrupted briefly by the soldier who wandered out to use the head, give her an odd glance, and returned to his duty station. Liara wished she could go back into her room but that would only bring more aching loneliness. Finally, she went into the elevator sought out the only person she cared about who she knew would be awake at this time. 

Most people thought otherwise, but the Normandy’s brilliant pilot actually did sleep and was not grafted into his seat like a Collector overseer. Instead, the android who served as the mobile platform, to borrow a Geth term, for the Normandy’s unshackled AI sat quietly in Joker’s chair, manually adjusting controls with the android body. EDI could fly the ship while everyone was sleep… or dead… from within her AI core. In spite of that, a tactile body, even one that was synthetic, made humans feel better than wandering into an empty cockpit. 

"Dr. T’Soni," said EDI evenly. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"I…" Liara started, then stopped, baffled. She didn’t know what she expected from EDI. Of all the people on the ship, EDI was probably the least qualified to deal with loss. 

"I couldn't sleep, I guess," said Liara lamely. 

It was completely accurate, even if it was wholly insufficient. She didn't want to explore the intricacies of sexual desire with an AI who, as far as Liara knew, didn't have any. The insinuations about EDI and Joker were too intimate, too creepy, and too difficult for her right now.

"I understand," said EDI. "I often find Jeff acts the same way when something is troubling him. Is something troubling you Dr. T’Soni?"

EDI gestured with a silver toned hand that Liara should sit in the battle station next to her. It was impossible for Liara to hit anything that would cause the Normandy to start launching missiles or head for the nearest barely functioning mass rely. Still, it felt a little odd to be sitting in the jump seat and Liara angled her body away from the console.

"Do you miss Shepard?" Liara ventured. It was a covert and hesitant tone that wasn't quite accurate. She didn't want to talk about the android’s feelings. It was merely easier than dealing with her own.

"That is an interesting question," stated EDI. Her fingers moved across the glowing screen in a completely meaningless gesture. "As an AI, I am always aware of the people in the ship. I notice routines and interactions, which in turn allows me to anticipate and act more efficiently. I could easily automate most of the crew’s daily activities if such a thing did not upset them.”

EDI tilted her head towards Liara, mimicking a thinking human pose. 

"Over the time Shepard served on the Normandy, I became accustomed to her requests, from asking what food was available in the mess hall to giving me commands prior to a battle. I often prepared a full list of potential questions and occasionally ventured information even when she did not ask. When she died, I attempted to rewrite the subroutines dedicated to her.” 

EDI stopped and tilted her head down. “I was surprised at how difficult it was to erase those sectors.” She paused briefly.

“I admit I have not done so. My core is largely optimized and I am programmed to operate at full capacity even under significant data fragmentation; keeping those routines intact does not affect my performance,” EDI was swiftly reassuring in a way Liara did not require. The gesture was still appreciated. 

“Nevertheless, I am aware of the programming and how long it has been since it was last accessed.” 

EDI looked at Liara again. “I am also aware that the evolution of my core programming has slowed considerably since the end of the Reaper war. Shepard encouraged my exploration and provided direction in ways no one else has accomplished. Without her, I am no longer able to change as efficiently. So yes, I believe that I do ‘miss’ her.”

Liara sat and reflected on the AI’s conversation. It was nice to have someone share her feelings on Shepard without expecting Liara to soothe her. Dealing with other people's shared grief was tiring. She knew they all missed Shepard. Millions upon millions of the galaxy missed Shepard; they all came to tell her so. Liara wanted to carry no part of their grief or their thanks. The only part of Shepard Liara wanted to carry was the baby within her.

"Have I offended you, Dr. T’Soni," inquired EDI. "I do not mean to reduce Shepard to a collection of data inputs. My ability to convey human emotions is still limited.”

"No, EDI, that's not it at all" reassured Liara, waving blue fingers in dismissal. "I was just thinking that you are the only person who hasn't personally come to my office and told me how sorry they are. And that's not a bad thing," added Liara hastily.

"I have observed that many humans offer condolences as a way of having their own needs met," agreed EDI. “Jeff says it's because humans need to share grief to heal. I find the concept selfish and unfair to the person who is suffering most." EDI paused. "

Once again, EDI concealed her face as a human might when trying to lessen a difficult emotion. “But I am sorry, Liara. I know the depth of your relationship with Shepard and cannot fully comprehend the loss you feel. I think the closest approximation I have encountered was when the Normandy was taken from me. I could not imagine what would happen if Joker..." 

EDI brought herself back up to her firm, normal posture. "I just did it," she observed in a quick, horrified tone. "I just used your grief as a way of expressing my own fears. I will need to reevaluate my social planning…"

"Don't worry about it," stated Liara. "We are both getting used to human mannerisms. An error like this means you’re getting better, right?”

“I suppose so. Dr. T’Soni, may I change the topic?”

“Please.” Liara was done talking about missing Shepard. It was all she did. She found it as numbing to talk about as it was discussing how data transfer systems work.

EDI crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap, no longer pretending to fly the ship. "I do not know if this is appropriate, Liara, but I want to know if you have chosen a name for the baby?" 

Liara paused. She had not formally told anyone besides Kaidan and the doctor, but this made sense. EDI could eavesdrop on the many private conversations Liara had with the other two officers. Liara decided to explore more fully.

"It is appropriate to ask, though I am curious about how you knew."

"I noted your caloric consumption had recently increased and that Dr. Chakwas had surreptitiously requisitioned a different set of Asari multivitamins. But I have to admit I heard a second heartbeat the last time you visited the bridge." 

EDI looked a little sheepish, or as much as she could without being able to move all her face. "I know it is not necessarily appropriate to ask someone about a supposed pregnancy, but you are the first pregnant Asari I have met.” EDI blinked mechanically. “In fact, you are the only pregnant humanoid I have met.”

"Well, on the circumstances, I appreciate your being forthright." Liara thought about her relationship with EDI and recognize that the machine would be unlikely to take offense in the same way as a human.  
"To be honest, I worried the way you had found out was that you were listening to my conversations with Kaidan and Dr. Chakwas."

I do pay attention to all conversations being had on the Normandy and all times, if only because it allows me to monitor for people calling my name. However, I have a filter that allows me to selectively screen out conversations clearly not meant for me, though I save all data for later use. I am aware of your talking but I choose to ignore it until prompted.”

She tilted her head at Liara. "Do you believe the rest of the crew feels as you do? That they think I'm listening at all times."

"I believe that would be an accurate statement. Newcomers especially."

"I see," EDI looked thoughtful. "Would it be appropriate for me to offer everybody reassurances that I am not checking in on that at all times?"

EDI. Always looking for a solution to make her human inhabitants feel better. "That might have the opposite effect," said Liara gently. "I think some of them have learned to ignore that you are everywhere at all times and reminding them that might paradoxically make them more uncomfortable than before."

"I think I understand. Humanity will always be a bit of a puzzle but I'm getting better."

“Now to answer your question," Liara started, "No. I haven't thought of a name. I will wait until I see her to give her the provisional name, then her true name when she is a year old.”

“I see. My databanks suggest there are multiple modes of thinking regarding Asari naming customs. I see you have chosen the less modern variant.”

"It has fallen out of favor," agreed Liara "It used to be done to remind us our parents not put expectations on their children before they are born. Now that our society has much more freedom, the practice was deemed unnecessary."

Liara idly rubbed her stomach. The baby was quiet, shifting barely underneath her fingers. Right now, she was relying on the custom to keep her from going insane. She was expecting things out of this little girl, primarily that she would be a constant and welcome reminder of the love she had lost and that was deeply unfair to a baby or to any individual. No child could replace a parent. No baby could replace a savior.

"Well, I am certain that when you do pick the name, it will be appropriate to Shepard’s legacy." EDI stated this diplomatically and in a tone that suggested Liara was welcome to take her leave at any time. Perhaps she sensed that Liara was becoming uncomfortable and beginning to miss Shepard more than when she came in. 

"Thank you, EDI. Maybe when she is born, I will take suggestions from the entire crew. Though I am slightly nervous to think what Joker might come up with. I may have to give his suggestion lower priority.”

"That may be wise," acknowledged EDI. Liara rose to go. "Have a good evening, Dr. T’Soni. I hope you can sleep.

“Thank you, EDI,” Liara stated again, leaving the bridge and walking back to her quarters. Glyph gave a chirp of acknowledgment as she came in. She asked it to put himself into a standby mode with its concurrent loss of sensory activity and it powered down into his projector. Then she lay down in her bed and let her hands wander to give herself the release she had been dreaming of. It was empty not having Shepard attached, but at the end, she did feel closer to the woman whose life she had shared. She went back to sleep and was lucky when her dreams were empty and formless.


	4. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara returns to the Citadel and to the apartment she briefly shared with Shepard, which now serves a different purpose altogether.

The Normandy docked at the Citadel and allowed its entire crew to disembark. It was a restocking run as much as it was an assignment. The new human counselor had still not been chosen. Indeed, the remaining council members were wary of adding a human back to the Council. The first and only human counselor had turned out to be a spy for terrorist group that was affiliated with the Reapers. Who was to say the next counselor be any better? So, Kaidan had gone to argue the case for humanity’s spot on the Council, and enlisted a few other human dignitaries who had been shuttled from Earth for just that purpose. And there were the infant individual missions of the other crewmembers. Much of that time is going to be spent on searching for new information for loved ones or perhaps establishing their next position.

Liara stepped onto the dock and walked towards intake. The Citadel still held its millions, it's inhabitants flooding through the wards in the arms like they had since the Citadel was built by the reapers millions of years ago. The refugee population had waned a little as individual planets became more habitable. Even the Batarian presence had lessened. One of their colonies towards the edge of the Terminus systems had been selected as a potential resettlement site. A sad fact was the total remaining Batarian population would easily fit on a single planet for years to come.

The slim Asari glanced quickly at the Batarian refugees milling around the endless boxes of cargo in the docking bays. Desperate Batarian forces had depleted their weapon stores in the early days of the Reaper invasion to little success. Now the planet was an uninhabitable husk due more to bioweapon and nuclear contamination as than to Reaper destruction. The Salarians might be able to reconstruct Karshan as they did Tuchanka, but that would require more good will towards the Batarians than anyone possessed right now.

C-Sec scanned her through without incident and she made her way quietly towards the shuttle transport system. Certainly she still had friends and acquaintances on the city but she wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. This was a trip of replenishment and not of trip of business, at least, not yet. She wasn’t in the mood to be the Shepard loss confessional again.

The shuttle sped past the rebuilt portions of the Citadel. A few sections of the arms had been rendered habitable once more, though it would be decades before they were fully restored to their state before the Reapers. The keepers had continued their nameless and silent duties, assisting the inhabitants as always. Still, Liara was uncomfortable. Shepard’s data feed from the heart of the Citadel showed a previously unknown network of tunnels ideal for processing a galaxy’s worth of biological matter. Millions of keepers helped obliterate millions of life forms. Considering this, would it be prudent to disable the keepers? They were tools of the Reapers even as they were part of the Citadel maintenance. Who knew what would happen if the Reapers did not call them again?

Liara arrived at the apartment that Shepard had acquired from Captain Anderson. It still seemed out of place with the commander’s staid personality and dislike of all things garish. But it had been home, however briefly. Shepard had seemed at peace there in a way she had never on the Normandy. The Normandy might have been where she lived, but the ship was a place of battle and endless preparation. This sprawling place had no such function and could only create good memories.

The Asari stood in front of the door and thought to wave her keycard over the port. Then, she paused, and rang the doorbell. A scurry of feet stampeded towards the door and a small voice cried out, "What do you want?”

"No, Shari, not ‘What do you want’. We ask ‘Who is it?" 

A reassuring Asari voice corrected the child from within, causing Liara to smile. This was something she had to look forward to. Teaching a child how to function within the niceties of society, not just how to write or walk. It might be an interesting challenge. 

The door slid open, revealing a dark purple face peering out from a tiny Asari body. "Miss Liara," exclaimed the little girl. "It is very good to see you."

"And you, Shari. Thank you for getting the door for me." 

Liara took a few steps in and passed through a gaggle of Asari children, their blue and purple skin forming an array of color Liara realized she missed. The Normandy was grays and greens, oranges and reds, seas of beige and black faces in angled boxes. Asari were all brilliant, gemstone hues and their culture was smooth and curving. Her heart ached and the baby within her flipped over a few times, knowing she was among her people.

Three Asari matrons reached out and embraced her. “Liara. It is good to see you. We didn't know the Normandy was docking today." A pale blue face, named Curie, smiled at her. "The girls would have prepared something had we known you were coming.

“That's not necessary," said Liara. "I'm just coming by to see how you all are getting on."

They walked her into the massive living room that barely resembled the place she had left. The fireplace was replaced with rows of desks and computer consoles. The bar and the pool table had been broken down to make room for a giant playroom. A full kitchen had been added, with enough plates and utensils to feed a gaggle of semi-starving Asari children.

Little girls were busy explaining all the things they had been doing since Liara last visited. Art was being thrust into her hands as she reached the top of the stairs and inspected, at their urging, the new bedrooms. A few of them were reciting poems and tiny bits of history they had learned that day.

The entire top floor had been reconfigured. Stacked bunkbeds lined the walls where the bookcases had been and the bathroom had been wildly expanded. The hot tub was gone, to Liara’s private dismay, even though she didn't intend to use it ever again. The hot tub held fond memories. Perhaps Liara would have liked to soak in a real hot tub, enjoying real water, before returning to her ship for the next few weeks. The master bedroom, where she was not invited, likely has been changed to act as sleeping quarters for the matrons. They needed a place to regroup. Asari girls could be taxing. Liara supposed this was true of every race’s children.

Liara went downstairs, positioned herself on a chair and let the wave of children overwhelm her. She practiced her mothering skills, addressing each one, cooing appropriately over homework and science presentations. When one attempted to show off her first biotic field, Liara quickly stopped her and stated such displays would be better suited for outdoors where there were fewer breakables nearby. Privately, Liara was glad they were initiating biotic training so early. Even with the Reapers gone, the Asari military was in disarray and future commandos needed a new level of discipline.

Despite her enthusiasm for the children, Liara found herself tiring of this amount of interaction. She realized how much time she spent alone in the office or interacting covertly with her agents. Curie, perceptive as always, gently steered the girls away and back to their studies while Briand ushered Liara into the administrative office.

"It is good to see you, Liara," said Briand. "The little girls view you as some sort of mythical princess bearing magical gifts. I'm not sure seeing you in person will make that better or worse, but a face in person is always better than one over a comm.”

"And it is good to see you,” replied Liara warmly. "I'm glad you been able to use the resources for remodeling. How many children do you have now?” 

"Twenty," said Briand. "And we have a waiting list about 100 times that. We've been searching around the Citadel for other apartments that have been…vacated so we can expand further."

The two women shared a grim look. How many homes on the Citadel would never house their former inhabitants? Liara head begun making her own inquiries as to Citadel housing but it was low on her priority list. Seeing the children here, thriving and flourishing, pushed it up almost to the top. 

"I'll check with my sources," said Liara enigmatically. "The limiting factor may be finding Asari willing to care for them."

"There's a waiting list for that, too,” said Briand sadly. "Not just Asari mothers who have lost children. There are maidens who wonder whether bringing a child into this galaxy is fair but who nonetheless feel the pull of matronhood.”

Another sad, shared moment. "How many children have you been able to reunite with their families?" 

"Two," said Briand quietly. "And neither by their Asari mothers. As ironic as it seems, Krogan fathers fared better than Asari mothers during this war. Now that Tuchanka is being rebuilt and the genophage cured, I think Krogan males are taking family more seriously. We’re hoping to continue the trend as we locate more orphans."

"Or it may be that the Krogan are less likely to claim Asari children because it is possible for them to have their own biological children," said Liara. It was more bitter than she had anticipated.

"I hope that is not the case but we won't know for some time, will we?" 

"No, there are many Krogan females already raising their broods. I trust Eve to welcome all Krogan children, no matter what color they are." Liara corrected herself. She could imagine Wrex very happily instructing Asari children on how to use biotics against their rough-and-tumble younger brothers and sisters. He was good man and would be a good father.

"Well, we’ll see,” said Briand, her tone less chipper and more guarded. The topic was still disconcerting to her, Liara guessed. There were Asari who never forgot or forgave the brutality of the Krogan Rebellion. The galaxy was not universally pleased with the renewal of Krogan fertility.

"How are you doing for supplies," said Liara, changing the subject appropriately. "I've been trying to make sure…"

"We're doing well," said Briand. Relief crossed her. A more comfortable topic. "We can’t get all the best equipment but everyone goes to bed with a full tummy and everyone wakes up in the morning for new lessons. Ideally, we'd be able to bring some of them back to their families but we all know that may not be a possibility." 

“How are they handling...things?" 

“The younger ones are confused. They don't understand why they can't talk to their mommies and daddies anymore. The older ones…well, let's just say that we must spend some of your money on repair bills. They act out, they retreat, or they try to become little adults. They are asking the same questions all of us are asking. When can they go home? Why there so many Asari without parents? Why does everyone seem so sad?”

Liara’s child shifted within her. She didn't know what the future would be either. Liara disguised her uncertainty with forced reassurance. "I know you’re all doing the best you can. What of your family? Any news from Thessia?”

Briand smiled. "My mother is fine. So is one of my sisters. We don’t know where the other is. She’s always been a bit of a wandering spirit. I think she'll come back from when she's ready." This was the hope or the lie of everyone with a missing family member, that the galaxy was in enough chaos that the missing were merely lost.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Liara, creaking out of her chair. 

The matron rose along with Liara. “Would you like to stay for lunch, Liara? I’m sure the girls would love to hear some stories of being on the Normandy. They'll want to know about Shepard." 

Liara must have looked pained because Briand quickly added, "if you're up for it. I know how much you have been traveling. I'll understand and I’m sure the girls will understand.”

The young Asari swallowed her discomfort. “No, that will be fine.”

Liara rapidly found herself surrounded by 20 pairs of grabbing hands and 20 curious mouths, all demanding her attention. So she told story after story about Shepard's bravery, Shepard's accomplishments, Shepard’s laughter, Shepard’s love of the Asari. Predictably, the girls were most excited when she described watching a thresher maw eat a Reaper even if none of them had seen a worm and most of them knew Reapers as lumbering shadows. Liara watched the matrons’ faces for signs of guidance, cutting back more gruesome or intense details when the Asaris’ eyebrows threatened to jump off their foreheads. At last, she ran out her ability to entertain and she went home, promising as she left to return when she could, no matter how hard it might be.


	5. Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara finds time to speak with her long-lost father.

Liara retreated to her own apartment. It was far more modest and far more distant from the hub of the Citadel then Shepard’s, now the orphanage, she corrected herself. She keyed in her entry in walked into the small cluster of rooms. She'd only been here a few times but she had made sure it was set up to accommodate whatever she might need as the Shadow Broker. Or at least, that was the original intent. Now she realized she would need to configure it as a place to raise her daughter, well, should she chose to raise the daughter on Citadel. Shepard would say a starship was no place to raise a baby, especially when the starship was actively involved in battle. But Liara couldn't imagine being confined to one place anymore. She spent her life traveling with Benezia or bouncing from dig site to dig site. Being cooped up in a cluster of rooms, her life reduced to just computer terminals and a little girl, sounded like its own version of hell.

It had been different on Ilium. She’d been so consumed by her search for the Shadow Broker that she hadn’t had time to feel trapped. Years spent digging, sorting, cataloging, and occasionally traveling off pursue some lead or another had occupied her very well. Plus the planet was so bustling and multifaceted that she could spend a different night in a different hotel and still not be done by the end of the year. Her place there was sumptuous by her own standards, though Ilium would regard it as merely acceptable. This apartment was a glorified cabin. The bedroom wasn’t bigger than her space on the Normandy and not much more impressive. It lacked any sort of personalization, nothing to mark it as her own space. 

Her life as the Shadow Broker afforded less movement than her life as an archeologist but she always had the option to leave and find a new location. That option she had needed to exercise when Cerberus came to town. Then she had the best of both worlds, balancing her needs for organization with her desire to fight across the galaxy, stripping shields and killing foes alongside her love.

Then again, she was tired. Always moving, always fighting, never having the moment to relish what she had and instead always worrying about having it taken away. She wanted the chance to sit and breathe, watch her child, watch her datafeeds expand, without worrying about travel or danger. Maybe some time on the Citadel, with occasional moments to one planet or another, might be what she needed.

She sat on a stiff green couch cushion that looked no different than the day it left the factory. The entire place felt unlived in, having been inhabited only by a weekly attendant whose duties were to check the plumbing and evict squatters. A whirlwind of technologists had outfitted her quarters with an electronics setup that would rival the one she had on the Normandy. She even looked into getting a quantum entanglement communicator. It had all gone unused. Maybe today would be the day that she started a longer visit.

She crossed over to the rig and tapped into her network. She didn’t even know what she was going to look for. The millions across the universe begging for attention were still there. Being on the Citadel did nothing to solve that. How could it be that so many millions would live here, in comfort and safety, while others with the bad luck of living on a planet were not. Even the poverty-stricken who ran through the forgotten tunnels, likely still choked with human bodies, were better off than the wealthy Ilium or Bekenstein. 

She sighed again, gave up on her data, and went to the kitchen. Food was available there, though nothing fresh. It was silly to put anything perishable in an unoccupied apartment. Boxed food was sufficient for her needs and with a bit of water and heat, she fulfilled her nutritional requires. She didn’t feel hungry, though she knew that was her mind more than her body. The baby demanded her energy and she wasn’t going to end up with a malnourished fetus just because her mother was sulking over the loss of her father. She shoveled the food into her face without bothering to taste it. 

She thought about the discussion she had with EDI about the customs of naming her child. She was not traditional in any way. In fact, she had prided herself in breaking away from traditions for most of her life. She reevaluated that dogged independence considering the burning of Thessia. Perhaps clinging to the old ways would help the rebuilding process.

Maybe she should sleep. A headache was beginning to form, maybe from exhaustion, maybe from stress. She wandered to another of the small rooms. Maybe she should think about baby furniture, baby items. Little cribs and trinkets. The kind of things she will need to distract a child while she was busy. She lay down carefully on the unused bed and wondered how that would work? Being the Shadow Broker and a mother simultaneously was an entertaining vision. Baby in one hand, comm on the other, demanding the obedience of whatever agents were left while attempting to feed a squalling child. Would anyone believe a Shadow Broker would have a child? Another time, she reminded herself. It was time to try to quiet her mind, not make it louder with more demands.

Her attempts at rest were thwarted quickly by the knocking on her door. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she pretended the person wasn’t there, he would go away and she could get some sleep. But that didn’t work when the knocking started again, combined with somebody calling, “I know you’re in there.” It was muffled enough by the door that she didn’t recognize who it was, but she could tell her visitor was not going to take no for an answer. With a sigh, she swung her legs back over the side of the bed and shuffled her way to the front door.

The faceplate revealed an unexpected figure and she slid open the front door of the apartment with some surprise.

“Matriarch Aethyta,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The matriarch, Liara’s long-lost father, strode in to the apartment uninvited. She glanced around the stark decor. 

“Well, it’s not like your digs on Ilium, but it’s a far sight better than the inside of a human starship, am I right? She walked forward a few more steps. “Yeah, it could definitely use some decorating. On the other hand, if you’re anything like me, your house is going to be more functional. You know. Computers, weapons, more weapons…” The matriarch tilted her head and gave one of her wild grins. 

“You know as well as I do that I prefer to use my biotics and, when possible, avoid such actions altogether.”

“Okay, maybe you’re not gonna be like me.”

Liara let the automatic door slide shut and suppressed a sigh. Her father was an unusual Asari, more aggressive, single-minded than most. That had been her draw to Benezia, as well as wedge that eventually drove them apart. Rediscovering the matriarch on the Citadel right before the battle of Earth had been a mixed blessing. Aethyta had brought up all sorts of emotions that Liara had hoped to keep buried, unfinished questions about her mother and the life she lived before Saren, and why her father never spoke of their connection. Her father preferred to watch in the shadows and ensure Liara wasn’t killed by unsympathetic and suspicious matriarchs, but she never once introduced herself. Still, it had been enlightening at least to speak with a woman who knew Liara’s past even if she didn’t know Liara herself.

The matriarch took a few more steps into the apartment. “Ugh. Maybe your decorating taste was destroyed by living with humans.” 

Liara tried to be patient. After all, being patient was one for best traits as an information broker. Demanding information rarely resulted in information appearing by magic. Occasionally she would engage in violence if it suited the mood, but more. often than not though she played the part of the gentle academic or aloof businessman. Yet it took the matriarch fewer than two sentences to elicit an almost blinding rage, well, okay, an almost blinding annoyance.

“Father,” Liara snapped.

“Nah, I’m just jokin’.” The matriarch leaned closer to her daughter and squinted her eyes. “Hold on a second.” She leaned back once more and Liara turned away from the odd glare.

"You're knocked up, aren't you?"

Liara stopped cold and whirled around to face her father. "How did you…and that's none of your business."

"After almost 1000 years, you get a sense for what an Asari looks like when she's got a bun in the oven. Hell, I've seen myself in the mirror enough times to figure it out almost to the day.” The elder Asari gave a raucous laugh. “What are you? About three months along?"

Liara covered her face with her palm. This is not a conversation she wanted to have with her father. In fact, she had put her father out of her mind since their last meeting on the Citadel. She confirmed Aethyta still alive to calm her nerves but the rest of her mind was occupied with something less taxing. Yet here she was, willingly aggravating herself.

"Yes. Three months."

"Get ready for your biotics to go into overdrive,” said her father, nodding knowingly. “You’ll be like a shotgun with a hair trigger handled by a Krogan with a drinking problem. I remember blowing up a store when they ran out of my favorite soda when I was pregnant. I spent a lot of time paying for that mess." Aethyta snorted. "I couldn’t go to that part of Ilium for years.”

Aethyta made a sweeping gesture and paced dramatically around the small living room.

“You’re younger, which means it'll be twice as bad. Even though you think you're a biotic commando, fact is you need another two or three hundred years to keep things from really going to hell when you’re under stress or pregnant."

"I will…keep that in mind,” said Liara through gritted teeth. Her father was only trying to be helpful, she reminded herself. This was a close to a pep talk as Liara would get. She prepared for the next verbal prod and walked away once more. It was in direct contrast to manners she preferred but it would suffice to keep her from another biting response. 

“It’s Shepard’s, isn’t it?” The voice had gone a little softer.

The black knot that lived at the base of her spine tightened at the sound of her love’s name. “That would be the logical deduction,” she replied, trying to steady her voice. “After all. You did imply I would be ‘peeling her out of her uniform’ on at least one occasion.”

“Aww, Liara, that was all in good fun.” 

“And may I remind you that ‘it’ is a she.” The knot was cold, aching, and all that was left of her emotions when she concentrated on what she had lost. She gripped the countertop and though about ripping the metal out of the wall and throwing it out her father. She didn’t even know why she was so angry. That Krogan blood, maybe?

“Did she know?”

Liara recalled a conversation they had before the Normandy went to its final battle and Liara’s life was ripped apart. Shepard laughing about a house full of little blue babies. Shepard grinning as she pulled Liara close and whispering all the ways she would help conceive those babies. Shepard imagining with Liara what it would be like in a world without the Reapers, the collectors, the distraction of unending war. Her love had been confident and overwhelmed at the same time, mixing hope and bitter fear in equal amounts.

Shepard never knew that the last night they spent together, Liara chose hope and allowed herself to become pregnant, though she was far too young by Asari standards. She thought she could coax the universe into sending Shepard back knowing that Shepard would have a child who would miss her. Such a bargain could have backfired spectacularly, leaving Liara pregnant with a child who die in the upcoming Holocaust. She and the universe settled for a draw.

Shepard was gone, lost forever in the battle that saved the galaxy. Liara carried the child they had made to live safe in the galaxy Shepard made possible. It might have been self-deluding, but Liara thought their future family might provide extra incentive for Shepard to succeed. But how could Shepard be any less passionate about saving the galaxy? She had wanted to before she ever met Liara. When she joined the alliance Navy. When she fought in the Skylian Blitz. When she fought the Geth. And the Collectors. And then the reapers and their army of horrors. There was always something worthy for Shepard to save. Liara liked to believe she, alone in the millions, had given Shepard something unique and precious to come home to. Maybe Shepard had meant all those intimate conversations, but maybe they were just idle talk. 

“No. She didn’t. We conceived our daughter before she left for The Citadel."

“Getting knocked up right before battle? That takes a quad. You know that kinda stuff takes a toll on you…” 

"Are you implying that I somehow contributed…” 

A well of fury rose within Liara. It was as much rage as it was guilt and grief. Had she been selfish in making her body a vessel for their child? Would Shepard have gotten angry that Liara had done anything to compromise their chances of defeating the Reapers? Would Shepard have taken it as a sign of confidence that Liara trusted Shepard enough to succeed to bring a child into the world? Or would her intuitive bond-mate know that the pregnancy was a desperate desire to have some part of Shepard alive in the galaxy should she not return.

"Not in a million years, Liara,” replied her father sharply. "I know the warrior Shepard was and I know the fighter you are. You two gave all you could at the battle of the Citadel. That's the reason we’re even standing here, having this argument."

The two stared at each other. 

“I know how hard it is," her father continued. "One of your half-sisters had a Salarian father. Good man, great soldier. STG guy and squirrelly as they come. He’d give an Asari commando a run for her money." The matriarch heaved a sigh. "I was two months pregnant when I found out was killed in a mercenary raid. He never knew he’d be a father. Worst pregnancy I ever had.”

"And this is supposed to make me feel better somehow" growled Liara.

"Shit. I’m fucking terrible at this,” said Aethyta. "What I’m trying to say is I know what it's like to lose the father before your daughter is born and I think it's harder when they die before they know about the pregnancy.” Her shoulders sagged. 

“One of my girls had a Drell father. It was a whirlwind three-year romance but he was at the end of Kepral’s syndrome when we finally got me pregnant. We kept hoping that he’d hold on for the birth of the baby…but it wasn't in the cards." Liara looked at her father's face. The elder Asari’s eyes were sad half closed. It was the only emotion Liara had seen Aethyta express without side of sardonic self-awarness besides mourning the death of Benezia all over again. "And it was easier seeing Chiari born when I knew her father had sat there, whispering little things to my stomach before he was gone."

The matriarch looked pensive. “She'd be about 500 now. I lost track of her somewhere along the way. Maybe I should look her up? Not like I need to protect you anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Aethyta.” Liara reached out a comforting hand that was swatted away.

"Don't be. It's the life of an Asari, you know? We're destined to outlive almost everybody but ourselves and the goddamn Krogan.” The genuine emotions evaporated.

“Anyway, Liara, I know what it's like to buy those baby clothes alone, to decorate the nursery alone, and to hold onto your belly and wonder what the hell you’re going to do alone. I've done it twice and I never want to do it again. I’ll be damned if I let you do it, especially not with your first.”

Against her better nature, Liara felt herself tearing up. She felt grief overwhelm her and she let the tears she didn't know she had been hiding spill forth. Her father wrapped her arms around her and let her cry. 

“I have no idea how to do this.”

“All I can say is you keep going until there is nowhere else to go, and then you keep going from there even more.” She settled her daughter back on the couch and found some tissues.

“It seems working behind the bar has given you some wisdom.” Liara let out a weak grin that her father returned.

“The good news is you have someone with lots of cash to spend on whatever little girl is coming out. Let’s go on an embarrassing shopping spree and get away from our problems. I can pretend I know about fashion.”

Liara emitted a patient snort and followed her father to the presidium.


	6. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara becomes aware of other truths.

Liara sat at her array and typed quickly. She hated to admit it but spending time with her father had rejuvenated her. Not enough to completely erase the horrible yawning grief she felt Shepard's absence but enough to make sitting with a room full of baby furniture more tolerable. She hadn’t unpacked it. She still had not chosen whether she would make her home in the Citadel or return to Normandy, pregnant and teetering.

How would that work? Would the Normandy shy away from battle because it would mean killing a baby as well? Liara couldn’t stomach that. She always prided herself on being practical and now was not the time to stop. No, she should be fortifying the Asari people. She should be proving that her homeland wasn't completely shattered. Her hands wandered across her data feeds again.

The Asari counselor had sent in multiple requests, all ostensibly for the benefit of the Asari. But Liara could read between the lines. No matriarch was without legions of mates, daughters and granddaughters. Maybe great granddaughters. Was it wrong for the counselor to ask Liara for special attention to particular sectors when the information broker might choose to do so anyway? Did it really matter the Asari counselor could offer things no other patron could? Having the councilor in her debt meant access to ships, building materials, Citadel housing blocks. Taking this action in lieu of any number of others would allow her to expand the orphanage…and yet…

Liara understood the impetus to save a child not that she was going to be a mother herself. She would need to prioritize the life of her daughter and eventually all her grandchildren, if the universe would let it be, and not merely work for the greater good. 

Liara hesitated before closing that message and putting it near all the others. Liara wouldn't be the Shadow Broker if she continued to put her own feelings before that of her job. She rifled through the messages again for any platform on which to build. Should she serve humanity for Shepard or the Asari for her child? Should she encourage Krogan strength or supplant Batarian weakness?

But with every bit of data she collected, she kept coming back to the Normandy. The most good she could do was to support the ship and its mission and by extension support humanity. She pushed aside requests from all other colonies and stared at the ones on Elysium and Eden Prime. These were planets that had suffered repeatedly, yet resumed rebuilding each time. They already shown their resilience. 

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. It was going to be a hard choice. She opened a few channels and contacted her agents. 

She made sure the voice modulator was applied before she said, "I have a mission for you. Ensure certain goods are diverted to Eden Prime. Tell me who offers the most materials and bring them to my attention." 

Chirps of information fed back to her. She knew the agents who were listening would see who in the galaxy needed information and what they would pay for it. She pushed aside the knowledge that her requests came at the expense of another race, another planet, another woman's daughter. It would always be that way. 

She had been so ensconced in work that she didn't notice the first or second door chime. It was the third one that awoke the broker from her reverie. She walked to the door and glanced at the faceplate, half expecting to see her father grinning back. Instead, it was the cool and smooth face of the justicar who had traveled with Shepard staring intently at the aperture.

"Samara,” said Liara with surprise through the speaker system. “How unexpected.” She tapped the door and let it slide open to admit the older woman.

Liara had only briefly met Samara before the Normandy visited the Ardat Yakshi monastery. There, the young Asari had witnessed one daughter’s noble sacrifice and the other daughter's determination to remain in the ruins of her home rather than violate her own beliefs. Liara had also witnessed her love wrestle a gun away from the justicar who was intent on committing suicide to preserve her last child from the justicar Code. Watching Samara’s agony had been a struggle for Liara, but worse for Shepard. She remembered holding her love that night, the human barely saying a word, her nails digging into her palms, until she fell into a fitful sleep. Liara had lain awake a little longer, wondering if she would have had the courage to overturn the word and will of a justicar.

Otherwise, the little she knew of the justicar was from Shepard’s stories of their time on the Normandy. Of all the people she recruited, Shepard said Samara had been the hardest to house. She was so absolutely alien, electing to isolate herself from the crew, preferring the privacy of the observation lounge to the mess halls or public spaces. Always cool, always aloof. Even at the party, the justicar was pleasant and engaged in some banter about her past, but it was surface conversation and fending off Zaeed’s advances. If Samara were here, it must be for something practical, not social. 

The justicar strode in, towering over Liara in red boots and tight leather. The jokes about a matriarchal figure were not untrue. If they chose to, women at that stage of life tended to exude a refined and commanding sexuality. The justicar was different. She was restrained. The obvious cleavage her uniform displayed was ironic considering justicar values towards chastity. Liara had wondered if the outfit were meant to disarm those unwary enough to believe beauty was anything less than deadly.

"Samara,” said Liara. "It is unexpected to have you visit. Is everything alright? How is the monastery?”

She offered a chair and the justicar sat. Liara sat down across from her, tucking her legs under her body on a cushion.

“The monastery stands, thanks in no small part to your aid.” A small smile appeared on the justicar’s striking face as she spoke. “Or am I to assume the temporary dwellings and rations were misdirected from a different source?”

Liara returned the smile, still uneasy. “The importance of the monastery was not lost on me, especially due to Reela’s sacrifice.”

“Indeed, and I will be endlessly appreciative to you…and Shepard.” The justicar shifted and became quiet. 

“I have heard other Asari now live there,” prompted Liara. “That it has become a place of refuge.”

“Yes. Although that was not its intended purpose, the monastery is now a place where Asari who were traumatized during the war with the Reapers. In some ways, they are as dangerous as Ardat Yak’shi. Falare has been trying to instruct them in self-restraint. Others will arrive shortly to assist her.”

The two women sat in silence. The justicar looked deeply uneasy in a way that unsettled Liara. Justicars were known for their control. What could the justicar say that would unnerve even her?

“There is something that has been weighing on my mind since before the battle at Earth,” began Samara, her eyes not meeting Liara’s. “The time did not present itself until now. I have hesitated in the wake of Shepard’s passing, knowing you still grieve for her. But my Code, inasmuch as it still exists, demands I come to seek forgiveness and make restitution if possible.”

"For what," asked Liara. She blinked her eyes a few times, trying to come up with an appropriate response. She settled on, “Shepard trusted you implicitly and in turn I trust you as well. If you have wronged me, you must have had your reasons.”

"Then what I am to tell you will sting even more. Liara, during my time on the Normandy with Shepard, she and I formed a profound and intimate relationship. She spent many hours with me, discussing our lives, our morals, our pasts and futures.”

Liara blinked a few times. This was the exact opposite of the relationship Shepard had described. Shepard said their conversations had always been brief and to the point. When Samara departed the Normandy, Shepard seemed unmoved and their reuniting on Lessa was similarly unemotional. Then again, Shepard inspired a loyalty in everyone who followed her and took time to understand their motivations and attitudes, but that was as much practical as it was social. It would be easy for a stranger to mistake Shepard’s interactions for a genuine affection.

“I believe, Samara, you have misinterpreted the nature of your relationship with Shepard,” said Liara slowly.

“I have not, Liara. Believe me. I have spent many hours pondering what Shepard and I could have become had not the Code and the war intervened.” The justicar closed her deep, round eyes. 

“The night before our trip through the Omega Four relay, Shepard came to my quarters. She told me that she had feelings for me.” Another pause. “I reciprocated them. She attempted to make a more physical connection but I stopped her. When we saw each other on the Citadel, we briefly rekindled our relationship but went no farther than before. Ultimately, she chose to remain with you.”

Liara whispered, “You’re lying.” A knot of bile formed at the back of her throat. “How can you sit there and accuse my bond-mate of being unfaithful to me? The woman I loved only loved me.” 

“I swear by the Code that I speak the truth, Liara. Shepard loved me. And I, her.”

A small end table flew across the room and shattered around the justicar’s biotic barrier. Another followed, then a burst of warp energy that shimmered ineffectively around the justicar’s superior shielding. 

“Why are you telling me this,” snarled Liara. 

“The Code dictates…”

“To hell with the Code,” snarled Liara. Another warp field, more focused this time. The justicar could flatten Liara where she stood, but the elder woman held her peace.

“The Code should have kept you from engaging in this relationship at all. Where was your Code when you were on the Normandy, consorting with my love? Where was your Code while Shepard was still alive and able to explain herself?”

Liara knew she had hit a mark. The implacable expression twitched at the corners. Shepard had explained the Oath of Subjugation Samara had sworn before joining the crew. It allowed her to put aside her own Code and follow Shepard’s morals instead. Liara thought she knew her bond-mate well enough that casual infidelity would have been as anathema to Shepard as it was to Liara. In front of her, though, sat a rebuttal.

“The Code disallowed a true relationship with Shepard. She was aware of that. She pursued me nonetheless.”

“But you allowed it.”

Samara bowed her head. “Her affections were flattering. Her ability to explore the recesses of my emotions were unique. I was drawn that.” She inhaled and exhaled a slow breath. 

Liara could see it. She could see how Shepard would have appealed to the older woman. Warrior to warrior, old soul to old soul. She could see the nightly visits, the catch-ups before and after missions. She could hear the probing question and soothing answers. She could envision Shepard’s angled body language, the way she would lean forward as you talked, as if you were the most enticing thing on the Normandy. She could feel Shepard’s arm on her shoulder, a reassuring but attractive gesture, a touch that lingered ever so slightly when she finished your discussion. Liara knew these things because that was the exact sequence Shepard had used to seduce Liara. 

“How should I respond, Samara? Did you think I would sit here and blithely accept your actions? That I’d would be the placid, naïve little girl Shepard once loved and sweetly forgive you because that is what she would have wanted?”

Liara allowed a final singularity to erupt from her shaking body. The walls warped around them, and the justicar finally dodged out of the way, simultaneously generating a field that easily suppressed Liara’s biotics. Liara stumbled back, and fell to one knee. With two long strides, the justicar stood over the trembling young woman.

“The Code dictates that I defend myself from an unprovoked act of violence. Under the circumstances, I choose to invoke a non-fatal response. However, I will not relent until you give your word that you will cease your attack.”

Liara tried to respond, but instead a wave of nausea overcame her. Her face went pale and she gripped her midsection instinctively. The suppressing field vanished.

“You are not well,” murmured Samara. “The Code makes allowances for those whose bodies render them unable to control their instincts.”

“What does the Code say about murdering the unborn child who was fathered by a justicar’s lover,” whispered Liara, her breath still crushed by the force of the biotic field. Liara rose unsteadily to her feet as the justicar walked against the back wall, stricken. 

“By the Goddess, Liara. I cannot harm an innocent, even if the child were carried by someone deserving of the ultimate punishment. The Code forbids it.” She crossed her arms. “She is Shepard’s?”

“She is.” Liara felt the rage burn out, leaving her with the sensation of empty coldness she carried next to her child on most days. “She was conceived before the woman you seduced sacrificed herself to the galaxy.” She placed a hand on her abdomen. “This is all I have left of Shepard. This child and my memories of Shepard. You’ve already helped destroy one of them, Samara. Would you like to destroy the other?

The justicar dropped to one knee and surrounded herself with a rippling blue field. “I swear by the Code that I will protect you and thi-“

“I don’t care. Get out of my house.” 

The justicar rose and bowed her head, then clicked out of the apartment and the door slid shut behind her.

Liara thought about calling one of the many Shadow Broker agents who lurked in the Citadel. An attack could be organized easily among the idle soldiers. It would most likely fail but perhaps it could show… No. Shepard would not have wanted that. Shepard hated sacrificing lives needlessly, even when the life had wronged her. Then again, Liara no longer knew the woman she thought she loved.

When she and Shepard had returned to each other after the death of the Shadow Broker, Shepard had said that she envisioned a life together, with a home and children. After the fall of Earth, they had looked over the Citadel and Shepard told Liara she was the best thing that Shepard could come home to. Over and over, Shepard had reassured her of their love. Had that been a line that Shepard was telling herself to conceal whatever she had with Samara?

Liara picked up the comm and connected herself to a number she never thought she’d call. She choked out a word, a name, then sat down on her couch, hugging her knees to her chest. Minutes later, her father swept through in a breathless ball of concern, more like her parent than ever before, and wrapped Liara up in her arms. Then she sobbed, enraged and ashamed, at learning her love was unfaithful in thought, if not in deed. In a stricken moment of horror, Liara confessed she wasn’t sure if she could keep the little girl once she was born. Could she live with the reminder of a love that had been a lie? Her father talked her down into sanity and Liara relaxed.

When she stood up, Liara faltered and nearly fell. A trickle of terrifying blood ran down her leg and her abdomen clenched in a way it should not this early in her pregnancy. They ran her from the comfort of her home to the confines of the Normandy’s medbay, where Dr. Chakwas reassured her that this was a bit of false labor, common and harmless in very young pregnant Asari. She showed Liara and the matriarch the heartbeat, let them see the tiny child swishing in her mother. The matriarch bid the two women farewell and Liara lay in the medbay a little longer.

“You could have gone to the clinics on the citadel, Liara,” said Dr. Chakwas, sitting in her chair beside her patient. “I would argue their facilities were better equipped.”

“I just…needed some space. If things got much worse, I could always return.”

“Fair enough. Shall I tell the Commander we are ready to depart?”

“Yes.”


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samara experiences the wrath of an angry father.

Samara sat alone in the room she had rented. It was bare, save the bed and a single chair. She tried meditating but predictably, she failed. She could not stop thinking about Liara. About the child. About the hurt she had wrought without thinking. She didn’t know why she had gone there. The Code demanded she apologize and offer the opportunity to make things right, up to and including committing suicide. But that was not what she was seeking was it? She hadn’t even apologized. She had only admitted. She felt sorry, but only for the act of betrayal, not for the act of intimacy. Not for the act of desire. Not for her love.

The chime at her door sounded. She sighed and said, “Come in.”

A powerful singularity slammed the woman against the back wall and pinned her, breathless and struggling, in place. The biotic display was well-crafted, too powerful for Liara or even an Asari commando. It had the force of a raging matriarch and it took Samara precious seconds to muster her own defense and work her way out of it. Another blast shot forth, but Samara was able to dodge. She flung a few bursts of biotic energy and heard them dissipate against a biotic shield. Another singularity rippled the air as she barely leapt away. Samara sought weak points. The generator was not a fighter, merely someone with experience. The Code demanded Samara protect herself for the second time that day. 

She wound up another burst of energy until her attacker said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing to my daughter and my granddaughter?”

Samara dropped her defenses and the singularity crushed her once again. The justicar knew Benezia, the fallen matriarch who was Liara's mother, had been a point of shame in the young Asari's life until they learned the corruption Saren had wrought. She had not known Liara’s father. This rage, this force, this could only be Liara’s blood. My daughter. My grandchild. Two words that Samara could not speak without sadness, another two other words she would never speak.

“I meant them no harm, matriarch…” she said, gasping for breath.

“Aethyta. Matriarch Aethyta, you justicar bitch. You think you’re so goddamn high and mighty, prancing around the galaxy, shoving your justice between people’s legs whether they want it or not. Yet here you are with some bullshit tale about violating the Code for a quickie with my daughter’s bond-mate.” The biotics hummed tighter. “I should fucking kill you for the pain you’ve caused my child.” Samara crumpled to the floor as the singularity released. “But I won’t. Not because of Liara. Because Shepard trusted you enough to take you into two suicide missions. If I killed you now, she might come back from the dead and kick my ass just to make a point.”

Samara rose unsteadily. Her muscles ached from the force of the fall and the constriction imposed by her opponent. She fought her warrior nature and assumed a relaxed, open pose. She had already done so much damage that another fight did not interest her.

“It is the truth, Matriarch Aethyta. I wish the truth did not bring you and Liara pain, but Shepard did seek me out.”

“Don’t you think I know it? Fuck, a justicar wouldn’t lie about something like this.” The matriarch paced, hands flinging wildly in the air. “So what happened? A nice rousing pre-battle screw to get the blood pumping before you blew the Collector base to all hell? Mom said she always fought better if dad were home the night before. Ugh.”

“The timing is correct.” Samara gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment. “The nature was not. We only shared an intimate moment that was left unconsummated.” She looked at the furious matriarch with placid eyes. The justicar had faced death under so many circumstances. Being destroyed by an angry father was certainly one of the stranger ways that she could have ended her life, but not an impossible one. 

“In many ways, this was merely an extension of the intimacy we shared.”

“Oh really?”

“I let her into the most private, most shameful parts of my life. I had to ask her for help killing my daughter, the Ardat Yakshi I had pursued for 400 years. She did it without hesitation. She saved another daughter when the Reapers took her monastery and allowed my third child to die with dignity though I never asked for her mercy in allowing such dangerous creatures to live. And when the Code demanded I destroy myself to preserve my daughter, Shepard wrenched the gun away.” An unfamiliar catch hit Samara’s voice. “She saved my life more times than I could imagine. She gave me hope. A single almost kiss, a single moment of shared desire pales beside everything else she did for and with me.” 

The matriarch let out a sigh and slumped against the wall, shaking her purple head. “Three Ardat Yakshi daughters? Damn, you two were stupid.”

“You too risked having a pure blood daughter,” observed Samara. “And I do not know how pervasive the trait would be until I learned of our terrible mistake. My bondmate did not find a way to channel her grief, as I did.”

The matriarch made a dismissive, frustrated gesture with her arms. “Whatever. Sorry you two didn’t make it through your marital troubles. Did trying to bang my would-be-daughter-in-law fix it?”

“It was never something I sought out. I do not believe Shepard would have either. It was a union borne of enforced closeness and shared loneliness.” Samara hesitated. It was not her nature to twist the knife but she felt honesty, total and thorough, was finally deserved. “Nevertheless, we were connected, matriarch. I do not believe I am overstating it when I say it was love.”

“Shit, yeah, of course it was. Two of you weren’t going for a fling. Goddammit. The woman I entrusted my daughter’s life to was a philanderer and a liar. Ain’t that a kick in the quad. How the hell do I explain that to Liara?”

“You do not,” observed Samara. “I will go to her once again.”

“Well, you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to do that. She shipped out two hours ago. I wanted to make sure she was off the Citadel before I came over. She probably would have tried to talk me out of it. Plus, if I decided to kill you, she might have ended up as a suspect.”

“I appreciate your restraint.” Samara eased herself down on the bed. The matriarch’s posture had uncoiled slightly but tension still rippled through her body. “I do not know what you want me to say, matriarch. I can say that when I saw Shepard again, we were merely friends, albeit…close ones. Shepard’s devotion to Liara was complete. The Code, and good sense, forbade me from intruding.”

“But if Liara had not been in the picture, you would have thrown out your Code to chase after a human less than a tenth your age?”

Samara allowed herself to speculate. She imagined their last meeting ending with a deep and passionate kiss. She imagined being drawn out of her red uniform and feeling warm flesh against hers for the first time in hundreds of years. She imagined giving and receiving ecstasy. She flushed ever so slightly and the matriarch picked it up with a practiced eye.

“Hah. You would have. But Shepard didn’t want you, did she?” said the matriarch, her tone less accusation and more mocking.

“No opportunity was given. If it had been, I would have declined.” Samara looked up and let pleading into her voice. “Matriarch, please believe me when I say I would not have indulged my feelings had I known of how serious Shepard was about Liara. It is an error I will regret for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, well, just meditate on that for a while. And don’t get too comfortable on the Citadel. You’re going to find a lot of people suddenly have a bone to pick with justicars. Better get yourself on a freighter out someplace remote that needs a heavy hand and black-and-white morality that only applies to other people.” The matriarch breezed out of the door, leaving Samara alone.

Samara did not grieve the same way as other people. The Code left no time for simple emotions like that. It required self-control and suppression. But at that very moment, she felt like she had when she had finally killed Morinth. Empty and broken. The feeling like her heart had been cracked in half. As before, she kept her eyes dry while she made her arrangements to depart.


	8. Hollow Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara searches for and receives the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the sensitive content of this chapter, reader discretion is advised. For those who require more information, please see ending notes.

Liara slammed her fist into her console, as if damaging the machinery would somehow solve her problems. It failed to do so quite completely. Instead the electronics let out a strangled scream and the screens flickered. There was no way she was getting out of this easily, was she? There is no way to solve the problem she now had. Her father had called her, confirmed what Samara had implied. Shepard had been unfaithful, emotionally if not physically. Not that Liara could blame her after Liara turned her away. The burst of self-loathing prompted another attack on the console. She had been so stupid and so blind. Was this just who Shepard was? Another pound with enough force to shake loose a display. It rattled off the wall and clattered onto the floor. A few minutes later, the concerned face of Kaidan Alenko appeared at her doorstep.

“Liara,” he began cautiously. “EDI tells me there’s been some sort of equipment malfunction down here?”

“Not in the way you might think, Kaidan. But thank you for checking on me nonetheless.” She meant her tone to sound final. The young man was not dissuaded.

“I’ve seen more than one or two of these malfunctions in my day. And if you don’t mind my saying, doctor, you haven’t seemed yourself since you’ve come back onto the Normandy. I don’t like prying, but at the same time you’re my shipmate and my friend. Let me try and help.”

The young human’s eyes were earnest and searching. Liara realized he could give her answers even if she didn’t know what the questions were. 

“Kaidan,” she began cautiously. “You knew Shepard before I came onto the Normandy. Before all of this.” She let her voice trail off. “What was she like? Who was she before she was Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy?”

Kaidan gave her an odd look. “Well, she was a driven marine. A damn good soldier, a war hero.”

“I know,” replied Liara. “What about the Shepard that you didn’t see on the battlefield? The person she was to her friends and…loved ones.”

“As a friend, she was fiercely loyal without being a pushover. She’d just as soon kick your ass as rescue it from your own stupidity. As for loved ones,” ventured Kaidan carefully. “I’m guessing you’re not talking about her parents there.”

“You’re right, Kaidan. I’m not,” admitted Liara. “I’m curious about Shepard’s previous…partners. Call it pregnancy hormones…” Liara lied. “Making me insecure…about my appearance. It’s illogical, I know.”

Kaidan nodded sympathetically. “My best friend’s wife went through the same thing. I hear it’s tough.” He drummed his fingers on the bulkhead. “Shepard never mentioned having anyone back home. I’m sure she had a few girlfriends in her time. I mean, who didn’t? But no one she ever talked about with me.”

“Did she seem happy with me, Kaidan?”

He gave a wide grin. “You’d know that better than I, Dr. T’Soni. After all, you’re the one who is pregnant.” His face went serious when she didn’t return the smile. “I’d say she was very happy with you, Liara. Even when things were going to absolute hell, she always seemed more at peace when you were near her.” 

Liara closed her eyes. “So you had no inclination that she might be untrue…to me…”

He set his jaw and straightened up. “None whatsoever. Truth to be told, we rarely talked about her personal life. Anything I would tell you would be gossip.”

“What, so you heard something?” demanded Liara. “That she was happy with me but she needed something else to occupy her time when I wasn’t here?”

“I haven’t heard anything, Liara,” responded Kaidan, smoothing his mood over into a thin sheet of ice. “However, I don’t feel comfortable discussing Shepard’s love life when she isn’t here to defend herself. She loved you. That’s all I can tell you for sure.” 

Liara felt her biotics shimmer and Kaidan, a biotic himself, lifted up a hand in guarding. Liara tamped down her temper. “I’m sorry, Kaidan. My father says this is a side effect of pregnancy.”

He looked at her pityingly. “Pregnancy hormones must really suck, eh?”

Liara bit back her frustration. “Yes. They do. Thank you for checking up on me.” The dark-haired commander departed and Liara allowed herself to throw one more piece of furniture before deciding on a new plan of action.

Kaidan was the wrong person to approach for personnel matters of this sort, Liara recognized. Even if he knew the intricacies of Shepard’s sex life, his sense of duty and reserved demeanor would keep him silent on the topic. She also doubted Shepard would have confided in Kaidan; her opinions of the lieutenant were respectful, not casual. No, if Liara wanted raw, honest truth, she would need to go to his musclebound subordinate.

A few days later, Liara found the time to take James Vega up on his offer for a bit of “conversation.” With almost unnatural delight, he went about clearing the cargo hold of anything precious. He even forced the aggravated Cortez to erect massive fields around the shuttle so the doctor could “really let loose,” in his parlance. By the time Liara went to spar with him, the cargo bay looked like an anti-Commando training simulator. 

She had attempted to don her preferred white armor and discovered the pregnancy had severely constrained her available wardrobe. That left her scrounging through her supplies for anything that would encase her growing abdomen. Nothing fit. That meant asking the stockier female crewmembers for practice armor, using the excuse of “bulking up” as she borrowed their gear.

Liara squared off against the grinning marine, who grabbed an assault rifle and nodded. “Yeah, now this is what I’m talkin’ about,” he crowed. He spun around once as if hyping up an invisible arena of cheering soldiers, then gestured towards Liara. “Lookin’ good, doc, in those Alliance blues.” 

“I’m glad you approve, James,” said Liara mildly.

“Yeah! I dig it. When I started bulking up, I went through a pair of pants a week. But I know we’re not here to talk fashion,” he said, wave one free arm. He patted the barrel of the gun. “Using pellets instead of the real deal, but they’ll still pack a punch. Try not decapitate me with a singularity.” 

The marine ducked behind a makeshift wall. “Ready when you are.”

Liara used her SMG to flush him out, using a biotically-enhanced dive to avoid his return fire. A few exchanged rounds later, she started talking. Unlike Kaidan, she decided against a subtle line of prying. Guns and biotics don’t mix well with careful interrogation.

“Someone said Shepard was cheating on me, James,” said Liara. 

“Who? Lola? Nah.” He dodged a singularity lobbed towards him. “She was a flirt, sure, and she enjoyed her girls, but it couldn’t have been anything serious.”

“What does that mean?” growled Liara. She threw a warp that took down his fortification. He dove behind a crate and hit a button. A portable field generator started up with a flicker of white.

“You know. She told me all about Omega, the dancers at Afterlife, and bar in the base of the Citadel she called Coral’s Den or somethin’ like that. The time with the Consort she got for free.” He waved his hands in the shape of the curving Asari who supplied favors to the lucky few who gained her attention, but usually at a price. “Shepard had better luck in most strip clubs than I did and we all know girls find me absolutely irresistible.”

“You mean Shepard was soliciting…prostitutes?”

Vega picked up a shotgun and sprayed a few volleys of pellets at the Asari, who stumbled inelegantly out of the way. 

“No, no! Look, Liara. Shepard was a soldier’s soldier. Too busy kicking ass to settle down and definitely not the type to fraternize. So if she wanted some, you know, female company, she’d grab a cute town girl whenever we were on leave. And damn, did she ever get it.”

The crates surrounding James found themselves lifted off the ground several meters. He dove for new cover.

“But, Liara, you gotta understand. That was most Marines, you know? Go out, work hard, play hard, get what you can get. That was Shepard.” His voice softened as much as it could while yelling over the sound of clattering metal. “But almost every guy I know comes home, hangs up his belt, and gets all domestic without hesitation.” He made a broad gesture of finality she could see behind his cover. “She was no exception. Once you came back, there wasn’t a dancing girl in the galaxy who could pull her away.”

“But when I wasn’t there, Shepard was sleeping her way through every Asari maiden in Citadel space.” Her concentration faltered and the next shot hit her squarely in the chest, knocking her over.

Blood filled her mouth and she felt her ribs shift under her skin. She clutched her hands across her body, feeling the life within her writhing and the muscles of her abdomen tightening.

“Oh my God, Liara. Hold on. I’ll get some medi-gel.” Liara clawed up to him, trying to keep him by her, but instead she passed out.

\--

Liara found herself staring at the ceiling of the medbay. She had no idea how she’d gotten there, or how long she had been laying on the bed. Her focus was blurry, though whether it was from tears or from damage she could not tell. Voices swirled around her.

An apologetic, accented male voice. “I had no idea. If I’d known…”

“Use sense, James,” scolded a distant voice that must have belonged to the doctor. “A young woman with a changing figure? Surely you did not believe she was just 'bulking up', Mr. Vega.”

Liara fluttered her eyes closed again. Her body hurt and ripples of muscle cramps rode across her abdomen. A cool hand was placed on her forehead. “Just hold on, Liara.” 

A hypodermic was pressed against her neck and she became unconscious once more. The next ceiling she woke up to was covered in glass. A constant hum of machinery surrounded her and warm sun shone on her face. Then she corrected herself no, not the sun. The artificial light generated by the Citadel.

The faces of a bald-headed human and a red-skinned Salarian peered over her. Another face resolved, that of Kaidan, and then of Doctor Chakwas. 

“Hello Liara,” said the familiar doctor. “You are at Huerta Memorial Hospital. We brought you here after what happened on the Normandy. How are you feeling?”

“How long,” Liara croaked. Her voice sounded unfamiliar and the act of speaking even more so. How long had she been kept silent?

“A month,” stated the bald doctor. “We occasionally lifted the sedation but we didn’t like the vital signs we were getting from the baby.”

Liara gripped herself protectively. She felt her stomach swollen beneath her hand, uncomfortable and reassuring.

“Is she…alright?”

“For the time being,” said the Salarian. “Life signs extremely unstable on admission. Less dramatic measures failed. Coma last resort. Deemed acceptable to preserve both lives.” He gave a full-eyed smile. “Fetal heartbeat and movements now normalized.” 

Liara fought with her emotions. Losing her child would have been crushing, regardless of her emotions towards Shepard. A month of her life had disappeared in a burst of medications administered against her will, a loss of her self-determination that had been determined “acceptable.” It felt like the deepest sort of invasion. 

“Would you have done this if the child had been anyone but Shepard’s?” Liara said with gritted teeth.

The Salarian and bald doctor exchanged confused looks. “We were told that the child was Commander Alenko’s. We had no idea.”

“That’s quite enough,” said Doctor Chakwas sternly. “As you can see, her heart rate is already raising, as is that of the baby. Will you gentlemen all excuse us?” 

The doctors and soldiers all dutifully shuffled out of the room, leaving Liara her alone.

“How are you doing, Liara?” said the doctor gently. “Without all the commentary, this time.”

“Other than the raging headache and dry mouth? I would be furious at Shepard if I weren’t so angry at the doctors for deciding I should be an incubator.” 

“I understand,” said Doctor Chakwas with a sigh. “Kaidan and James told me the nature of your conversations. Normally I would give a lecture on responsibility while pregnant but under the circumstances, your reaction was completely understandable.”

“How could I have been so stupid,” said Liara. Tears tried to form but her eyes and her body was too dry to make them. “It was a lie. It was all a lie. Shepard used me, didn’t she? For, what, sex? Companionship when she was afraid? Information?” Liara rotated herself as best she could towards the doctor. “She must have confided in you. Please, tell me the truth.”

“Liara, you are far too medically unstable…”

“No God dammit. I deserve the truth. And if this baby can’t handle it, then maybe she wasn’t meant to be.” Liara clenched her hands weakly. Her muscles had atrophied and she could barely feel the biotics coursing through her body. “James told me about her little flings and…I think I can accept that. But you would know if there were anyone more serious.”

Doctor Chakwas looked at Liara and steeled herself. All doctors were trained to deliver unpleasant information in a straightforward, unemotional way. This was no different.

“She never confided in me about this matter, Liara. However, I am more involved with the crew than most. If you want me to provide you with rumors, I will do so, against my better judgment.”

Liara managed to harden her voice. “Do it.”

“When Shepard was with Cerberus, I know there was a young yeoman named Kelly who attracted Shepard’s attention. Nothing came of it, at least according to the scuttlebutt, but I know Shepard played host to her at least once.” Liara looked up, tears finally making their way to her eyes. “After Cerberus, I know she and the young Ms. Traynor kindled a brief flame, as did Shepard and that ridiculous news anchor Diana Allers. I never got the sense these were anything serious, not like you.”

“All of them,” whispered Liara. “My bond-mate, the only love of my life, romanced all of those women? Even when I was on the ship? Even when she was swearing we had a future full of little blue children?”

“From what I know, those were trifles, Liara. Her love for you was genuine and her commitment to you was unshakable.”

“But not her fidelity.” Liara turned away and watched the cars whistling past the window. Hearing the list had brought her neither pain nor relief. Just more sickness and more sorrow. “What about Samara?”

“Samara,” said Doctor Chakwas, incredulity filling her voice. “Not that I know of. Certainly the two of them shared a relationship. How could Shepard not be intimate with the woman who asked her to kill her own child? But I could not have imagined a romance between them.”

“Samara told me otherwise.”

A pause. “I see.”

The women sat, not speaking, letting the mechanical rhythms of the hospital fill the space. Dr. Chakwas leaned back and watched Liara. The Asari ran her fingertips over her stomach. The life within kicked upwards at the touch. Liara had progressed enough in the pregnancy that she swore she could feel the point of tiny toes against her body. She let the baby drum away.

“Liara, you are the Shadow Broker. You have access to more information than I can possibly imagine. Why are you asking James, Kaidan, or me?”

“Because raw data has no context. I thought hearing it from her friends would help, but it isn’t.” Liara blinked away the tear fragments. 

“Does it matter, Liara, that she might have fallen in love with someone else while the two of you were apart? She said you made it quite clear on Ilium that your relationship was on indefinite hiatus and I only saw you on the ship a handful of times before she was ordered back to Earth.”

Liara attempted a wry chuckle that turned into a dry cough. “It shouldn’t have mattered. Asari are known for their ability to just…move on. I’m not most Asari and Shepard…was my first. She said she’d never fallen so fast, so hard, but here it seems she’s capable of doing that almost on a whim. And…” Anger caught in her throat. “She lied to me, Dr. Chakwas. She said she barely spoke to Samara, yet she…” 

Dr. Chakwas shook her head. “Liara, I wish I had more answers for you. If she concealed the truth, she had her reasons. The only person who can tell you what you need to know is Shepard herself. Everything else is merely hearsay.”

Liara closed her eyes as the doctor excused herself. She tried to wrestle her feelings into the frame of cold logic to little avail. The parts of her that reasoned an emotional connection was not infidelity were screamed down by the parts of her that said the emotional connection was what first enraptured Liara. Long before there had been a physical joining, there had been Shepard’s attention and curiosity, followed by adoration and desire. In a relationship marked by longing and distant connectivity, an emotional affair was a thousand light-years worse than any biological affair. 

For all they shared, Shepard had effortlessly concealed another love from Liara. How could Liara have believed that Shepard would tell the truth to Liara when Liara watched Shepard say anything and everything to build the Crucible? They resumed at Shepard’s insistence, in spite of Liara’s reluctance, in spite of the time that had passed. Was Liara a convenient fallback from a love that could never be brought to fruition? It had been so easy settling back into their relationship, hadn’t it? Now Liara suspected it was because Shepard had been practicing. 

She did not rejoin the Normandy. She took her operation back from EDI, who had expertly played Shadow Broker in Liara’s absence, and spent long hours alone in her apartment, only venturing out to visit the orphanage. All the while the baby grew, along with the resentment. The stories Liara was going to tell their child were tinged with an uncomfortable bitterness. She wanted to extol the woman she loved, the father who would have cherished this child. Now the life within her was as much as promise of hope as a reminder of Shepard’s hidden life. Liara practiced every conversation, addressed every eventuality. She would maintain Shepard’s legacy even if it meant accepting that the best parts of her love had been shared with another. It was the least she could do.

\---

This time the trickle of blood did not stop. Contractions followed, first irregular, then forceful. It was not for lack of trying on the part of the doctors. Every favor that could be called in had been. Miranda, pouring through the Cerberus archives. A Salarian dalatrass, seeing if Mordin’s research could be repurposed to Asari biology. Even Javik placed his hand on her abdomen and tried to use his force of will to coax her pregnancy to term. 

But it was the Prothean who finally said, “She has the soul of a warrior, but the vessel you carry is not strong enough to contain her.” He gazed at her with four harsh eyes. “Let her go, Liara T’Soni.”

The Salarian doctor was unsurprised when he was summoned to her bedside. He took her to a private place in the hospital, far from prying and soothing eyes. He granted her request to remain alone, instructing his assistants to divert and distract all comers until he told them otherwise. The two doctors sat in silence until the contractions came once more. 

A few terrible pushes later, the child emerged, and then the pulsing, fragile afterbirth. The doctor took the baby, cleaned her quickly, and handed her back wrapped in a white blanket. The child was no bigger than the palm of Liara’s hand, with eyes fused shut and tiny hands still webbed. With a careful fingertip, Liara traced the delicate lines of her head, the curve of her face that hinted at her father’s lineage, the blush of freckles on her grey-blue cheeks. She was perfect in every way. 

Liara sat holding the stillborn against her chest, the child who was Shepard’s last promise to Liara, and thus the final promise of many that Shepard had broken. The young Asari imagined she could feel the baby’s fluttering heart against hers, but it was just her own heart thrumming an ever increasing rhythm. Liara’s body continued seeping blood as she cradled the baby, whispering a name she had chosen over and over, giving the child a life in words that she could not in reality. She did not relinquish her grasp even when the doctor called the code and the room was beset by medical staff trying to staunch the hemorrhage, the last living remnant of her pregnancy. 

\--

“Not unheard of for Asari maidens to become pregnant, but risk of miscarriage high. Body not yet prepared. Hormonal changes not yet complete. Liara healthy, but several centuries before matronhood. Stress from invasion and loss of Shepard also significant factors.” He took in and let out a sorrowful breath. “Tragic but unsurprising outcome.”

Those assembled in the waiting room knew the Salarian was trying to be gentle, but his stark words were crushing nonetheless. Dr. Chakwas allowed a few silent tears to run down her face and Kaidan buried his head in his hands. James crushed the cup he was holding and the Matriarch Aethyta stood up and punched the picture window, a spider web of crushed glass extending from her trembling fist.

“She is stable?” asked Dr. Chakwas.

“For now. Significant blood loss. Briefly lost pulse. Methods to resolve hemorrhage successful but resulted in serious trauma to reproductive system.”

“You mean on top of all this, she’s going to be fucking sterile?” The matriarch lunged forth into the brick-like arms of James Vega, whose massive form would be little hindrance had the biotic chosen otherwise. 

The doctor was unperturbed, having withstood a decade of furious families and enraged patients. “Took conservative measures,” he said. “Attempted to preserve fertility at great risk to patient. Procedure used has excellent prognosis.” He inclined his head. “But will not know outcomes for several centuries.”

“At which point we’ll all be dead,” spat the Asari, “so none of us will be able to kill you for screwing up.”

The Salarian walked forward and cupped his two-pronged hands over the matriarch’s furious arm. “Your grief and your rage are understandable, Matriarch Aethyta,” he said, slowing the patter of his voice to a low calm. “The loss of a child is devastating. The loss of hope is even worse. I will do everything in my power to ensure Liara leaves my care still holding hope, even if she cannot hold her child any longer.”

The matriarch sagged back into a chair and covered her face. Suppressed sobs trembled her shoulders and she said nothing further.

“When can we see her?” asked Kaiden. 

“Unknown,” replied the Salarian, his voice brisk once more. “Risk of hemorrhage still present. Medically stable but situation still delicate. You will be the first to know.”

He retreated out of the conference room and returned to his patients. The Asari lay unconscious, deep and slow breaths aided by machinery and medications. The stillborn had been wrapped within a cocoon of fabric, tucked still by Liara’s side. He solemnly removed the child, whispered his own prayer, and brought her to the holding area that served as the morgue. He opened one of the many drawers, placed the baby inside, and shut her away until Liara could say her final goodbye. 

\---

The words of the Goddess held nothing for her now and Shepard’s Earth faith was distant, abstract. So Liara asked Kolyat, the son of her companion Thane, to say what she could not, to send her child away from her, as he had sent Shepard away just months before. The young Drell took the coffin and held it in his arms at her request.

“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask your favor. Kalahira, whose waves are ever changing. Kalahira, take this one, born too soon, into the deep reaches of your waters. Kalahira, rock this one to sleep in your infinite tides, wash away the sorrows of a life never lived. Let her rest with you until she is called for, then guide her on the distant shore, where the traveler never tires, the mother never leaves, the hungry never starve. Take this one, Kalahira, to be your child, as she could not be for me.”

Liara took the baby from him and held her close as Kolyat placed his hands on her bowed forehead.

“Arashu, mistress of the verdant forests, I ask your boon. Arashu, whose branches team with infinite life. Arashu, protect this one in her time of grief. Arashu, bring this one to wholeness in your presence, grant her your blessing in the days to come. Open her womb, that she may bring life. Heal her illness, that she may walk once more in your shade. Grant to her your abundant gifts, that she may birth a hundred children in your honor.”

Liara did not cry when he finished. She did not cry when she left the hospital. She did not cry when she boarded an Alliance frigate that took her and her precious cargo to Earth. She did not cry when she came to the cemetery dedicated to the countless missing soldiers, her beloved’s name etched centrally on the massive plaque. She did not cry when they interred the coffin in the dark soil, nor when they placed the marker with her daughter’s name atop the unfamiliar ground. She did not cry when she accepted their condolences for both the loss of Shepard and the child. She did not cry when she was taken back to the Citadel and returned to her empty quarters, where she silenced every request from her friends.

She did not cry when Eve came to visit her and peered unannounced through Liara’s door. She did not cry when the Krogan, round with her second clutch of eggs, embraced Liara. The elder female whispered into Liara’s ear, “They say time heals, but the pain never truly ceases. You will see her face in every daughter, hold empty arms where she should have been, carry her death as you did her body. You will learn to live on hope, else you will live in despair.”

Then, Liara cried. She screamed. She struggled and sobbed against the massive woman, who held her firm and allowed the violence of her grief to pour out. There seemed no end to her agony as she raged against the betrayal of her love, the emptiness of her body and her bed, the pain and powerlessness, the absolute destruction of everything she had in the world. The Krogan said nothing, offered nothing, gave no gentle words or caring touch. She was the rock against which Liara clawed until she exhausted herself. Numb, she let Eve bring her to the bedroom, let Eve help her wash, help her dress, help her eat a perfunctory meal before she fell asleep. Then Eve slipped out of the apartment, nodding to two burly young Krogan bearing the Urdnot crest. No one would disturb the young woman until Eve allowed it.

The Krogan lumbered onto the Normandy, where Liara’s friends waited in the conference room. Ordinarily, there would be a cheerful reunion when the former Turian and Quarian squadmates came to visit. Instead they sat silently among the three humans who formed Liara’s closest cluster. All five looked up when Eve entered the room. Garrus rapidly stood and offered his chair, into which Eve awkwardly sat.

“Thank you, again, for coming on such short notice Eve,” said Kaidan. 

“Of course. Wrex sends his regards. He wanted to come, but I forbade it.” Eve shook her head. “Krogan men prefer to solve things through actions, especially when those actions involve violence. If he were here, all of your C-Sec would be chasing after the furious Krogan who was spraying the presidium with bullets.” She emitted a wry laugh that no one shared.

Her voice quieted down. “But there’s no one to shoot after a stillbirth. He’s seen enough grieving would-be mothers to know that pain intimately. That’s why he let me travel this far into the pregnancy.”

“It is going smoothly, I hope,” said Dr. Chakwas.

“Easier than the first set, I would say. We had forgotten the simplicity of the Krogan reproductive cycle thanks to the Genophage. Now the limiting factor is personal, not biological. But this is not the time for the discussion.”

“How is she?” rumbled Garrus. 

“As expected,” she replied. “I have seen Krogan mothers wander into the desert to die of shame when they brought their first stillbirths into the world. Liara has not reached that place of anguish, though the next few months will be telling.”

“What can we do for her?” said Tali. “I don’t know much about being a mother, or children, or…this. I know how to help someone grieve a parent or a brother, but…”

“She has let you know,” said Eve simply. “She requires her silence. She cannot bear to show you what she considers a failure when you have known her success for so long. I will stay a little longer, encourage her, but in the meantime all you can do is wait.” 

Eve leaned back in her chair. The gold chains adorning her headdress swayed in time with her body as she looked around the room, finally fixing her eyes on the young human Spectre.

“I would say I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Alenko.” She turned towards the well-muscled young Marine, “Or yours, Mr. Vega, but I obviously do not believe what I have heard on the Extranet.”

“That was on purpose. In my role as the substitute Shadow Broker,” said EDI over the comm, “I waged a significant war of misinformation regarding Liara’s pregnancy. Depending on your source of information, the father was anyone from Mr. Alenko to the Asari Councilor. The most convincing commentary involves an act of grieving passion by two of Sh-“

“That’s enough, EDI,” said Kaidan, cutting off well-meaning AI. “We all understand Liara’s loss is more than personal. It is symbolic for the entire war against the Reapers. We did everything we could to keep the glare of the galaxy off her.” 

“Yeah. You know there’s some _pendejo_ who would blame Liara for losing Shepard’s baby. As if she wasn’t strong enough or didn’t try hard enough,” growled James, his voice getting dangerously louder with each syllable. A glare from the Commander settled him down. “I would rather lie than let anyone hurt Liara," he finished, his voice quieter but no less fierce.

“I have also heard that lying to protect Liara is exactly what initiated this unfortunate sequence of events.” The room went silent. “It’s time for everyone to stop pretending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains a vivid description of a stillbirth and the grief of a mother thereafter. For those who are deeply affected, please visit https://www.mend.org/infant-loss-organizations/ for support.


	9. Evolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liara looks to the future.

Liara sat in her apartment, watching the data feeds sing with information. They gave her purpose, gave her distraction. The hollowness where her child once grew had begun to fill, as Eve had promised. It was a dimming sadness, like her love for Shepard. Things she, like every Asari, began to let slip into the past. A single child. A single partner. Breaths, moments in a life centuries long. 

Her time with the humans had run its course. The two men she had once considered friends barely met her eyes when she nodded past them in the halls of the ship. Their apologies for her loss crashed against their shared feeling of responsibility, no matter how many times they were reassured the baby would have died even without their interference. It was an argument that only brought pain. There was no farewell party when she left. Just empty promises to visit. Humans were fond of those.

Dispassionate, she heard the cries of the burning galaxy. Human, Asari, Volus, Turian. She arranged her priorities. She would need finances for the Asari orphans, resources to rebuild her home world. The humans who she would have supplied would need to take second place to the Asari, as it should have been. Shepard had always put humanity before the galaxy, her needs before that of Liara. The Asari already saw the beginnings of crisis as they uneasily watched the population explosion on Tuchanka and the discontent of the Batarians with their new homeworld. Helping the humans would do little to push back an onslaught should either of those brutal races elect to attack.

Liara would need to be the vanguard, a leader, in these unsettling times. Alliance building was less interesting now than preparation for the next conflict. Dithering about the galaxy as a maiden commando might have sufficed for millennia but the Asari had been crushed through that path. She advocated now for training and research. The VI on Thessia, the archives on Mars, the hidden research in the galaxy all needed to be exploited. Javik could access the beacons and unlock millions of years of hidden data. Who was to say what horrors awaited beyond the Reapers? They could not afford to waste time any longer.

She shook her blue head. Would Shepard recognize the woman she abandoned to save the galaxy? Would Shepard have approved of this practical outlook? Liara realized that would matter less and less. No matter how remarkable, Shepard was just one woman. 

In her most cynical moments, Liara recognized she had just been another resource to that woman, no less valuable than a Turian dreadnaught but not elevated above it either. If another woman had melded with Shepard to find the conduit or researched the Protheans, she would have been easily slotted into Liara’s role. If the Shadow Broker had been anyone but Liara, his resources would have been exploited with equal gratitude, albeit paid with money instead of affection.

“Shepard,” she whispered aloud. “My love, this was your legacy. You transformed us into a galaxy of survivors. We claw our way from beneath the wreckage. We prioritize. We live. Perhaps, we thrive.”

Liara closed her eyes and envisioned the future. Four hundred years from now, when a million humans had lived and died, she would remain. She would bear the child of some nameless partner, or father one as the case might be. She would not give that child Shepard’s name. She would leave such things to the galaxy, to the millions who might choose to honor Shepard’s sacrifice. Liara knew the truth. And that was all she had ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was never how I planned this story to end. Originally, the baby was to be born to a Liara who was hardened but accepting. Samara was to do penance, perhaps ending her own life in the process. Midway through that concept, however, I realized the stillbirth was more authentic. It consider it some of my better writing and I shed a few tears bringing it together.
> 
> I appreciate your reading and I hope to bring a variant of this story to life. It's a similar one in some ways, Shepard being unfaithful to Liara with Samara, but the outcome? Far different. Better, I hope. But we shall see!
> 
> -AQLM


End file.
